No, it's not my voices. It's just the wind.
Sunday, 11/17/02 - 2:23 pm.

This morning, I woke up to something, too. But this time it was from the outside.

Wind. Some kind of weak hurricane. Too weak to be a hurricane, too strong to be called just "wind". I think I should work on expanding my vocabulary.

Well, I read the newspaper, and this is the way the weather is expected to be like for 48-72 hours. As long as I remember, I'd never seen this kind of weather before. Not here, anyway (I'm pretty sure it was like this one day I went to Manhattan...back in my days as a young one). It's like I'm in a foreign country, with a different weather. It's like I'm living by the sea, and I hear the ocean twentyfourseven. And if by any chance the wind stops blowing, there's no silence. There's only the sound of something approaching. And it's more wind.

And my mom whines because it's breaking her plants.

The windows remain closed. The doors remain shut, because they're always slammed. It sounds like someone is trying to break in by kicking the doors. You can't get out, the wind drags you down.

I for one am enjoying this weather. I love it. But then I think of the little angel and all of the other barefoot angels that have no home, no family, nothing to protect themselves. I am thankful for what I have, my long sleeves, my bed...but being thankful is not enough anymore.

As long as it's day, everything's cool. My biggest concern is when the sun goes down and the temperature drops down. For now, it seems the sun is the best friend of the poor.

Sometimes I feel so impotent.

*******

I haven't heard from him. Nothing. Nothing since the empty e-mails. Maybe he's out of the city right now, it happens. It pisses me off though. No, not him. This whole situation pisses me off.

I still love him so much. And I think of him. And I can't fall asleep easily because of I think of him.

I'd never hated anyone with this much love.

It's funny, I'm already used to try to get over him. I always fail succesfully, anyway. It's a lost cause. I'm used to miss him, I'm used to think he's gotten over me, I've accepted he's gone. But I still have hope. Damn it. I am Jack's rotten hope. Loser.

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